


TaiYama week 2018

by JoKessho



Category: Digimon - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-06 20:00:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14655126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoKessho/pseuds/JoKessho
Summary: TaiYama week is upon us again and these are my drabble contributions for this year.





	1. Invitation

**TaiYama week 2018**

**Day 1:**  Invitation (idea from a writing prompt)

 **Warnings:**  I use the word ‘dick’ once (twice if you count this warning about it xD )

 

-o-o-o-o-o-

Yamato frowned as he heard a knock on his apartment’s door. He pulled off his apron, which he had just prior finished putting on and walked to answer the door.

A man, about Yamato’s age, with thick, messy brown hair stood in the hallway, grinning broadly.

“Hi,” the man said brightly.

Yamato eyed the man wearily; he had never seen the brunet before.

The man continued grinning at Yamato.

“Did you need something?” Yamato finally asked.

“Dinner, please.”

Yamato’s eyebrows shot to his hairline.

“…I beg your pardon?”

“Dinner.” The man’s grin somehow widened even more. “Please.” He moved forward, as if to enter Yamato’s apartment.

“Wow, wait,” Yamato lifted a hand to stop the man. “I don’t even know who you are…” He paused. “And I will be extremely weirded out if you know who I am, for that matter.”

The brunet cocked his head to the side, still smiling, though not as widely. “You’re my downstairs neighbour! I just moved in last week, into the apartment right above yours. Your food smells great and I’m pathetic at cooking—all my creations taste either too bland or too flavourful.”

Yamato blinked a few times, staring at the other man. Then he retreated into his apartment and shut the door calmly.

Yamato walked into the kitchen, away from the sound of knuckles against the wood of the door.

“My name’s Taichi, by the way!” The man called through the door. “Yagami Taichi!”

Yamato pulled on his apron again and turned on the small radio sitting on his kitchen counter. He would just go about his evening as usual, ignoring the dick at his door. He would grow tired of knocking soon, anyway.

An hour and a half later, Yamato found himself exactly one floor up from his own apartment.

Yagami had indeed gotten tired of knocking at some point, though Yamato had been so absorbed in cooking and singing along to the radio that he hadn’t even noticed when that point had been.

Yamato looked down at the container in his hands. He heaved a huge sigh before knocking on the door in front of him.

Nothing.

Yamato knocked again.

Still there was no answer.

Yamato frowned at the door. And knocked again.

As there was still no answer after the third time knocking, Yamato decided that it was pointless to stand in the hallway, let alone in front of an apartment whose resident he didn’t even know.

Deciding that the food in the container would be better off in his own fridge, Yamato turned and started back towards the stairs.

A second later, he heard a door open and a: “Wait!”

With a roll of his eyes, Yamato turned.

The two males stared at each other, one in exasperation, the other in confusion.

“Um,” Yagami started, “did you need something?”

Looking like it was a huge inconvenience, but also an unavoidable obligation, Yamato trudged over to Yagami’s apartment door.

“Here.” Yamato shoved the container into Yagami’s hands, not looking him in the eyes. “I accidentally made too much and I don’t like re-heating food.” Yamato frowned at the container. “You might have to re-heat it since you took so long to answer the door.”

“Heh.” Yagami scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, sorry, bathroom.”

“Whatever,” Yamato mumbled, turning back to the stairs.

“I’ll bring the container back tomorrow, okay?”

“Whatever,” Yamato repeated, though a bit louder, before taking the first step down towards his own apartment.


	2. Amusement park

**TaiYama week 2018**

**Day 2:** Amusement park

 **Warnings:** me butchering this prompt (does that count? You shouldn’t need a warning for it, if you’re at all familiar with my writing)

-o-o-o-o-o-

Taichi and Yamato marched through a set of iron gates. Simultaneously, they turned left, down a gravelly path. Next, they took a slight right, before stopping.

They had walked to a pond.

The pond was nothing special; a forest of cattail weeds were growing on the other side, whilst the half closest to Taichi and Yamato had a patch of arrowhead—though only the green leaves, no small, white flowers seemed present.

Noticing the two humans, the pond’s occupants started their way towards the pair.

Taichi reached a hand into the small plastic bag he had been carrying.

Yamato showed the first signs of hesitation, “I don’t know if we should do this…”

Taichi cast him a glance from the corner of his eye, but made no comment. He pulled a fisted hand out of the bag, opening it between himself and Yamato.

Reluctantly, Yamato lifted a hand to take some crumbs from Taichi’s open palm. He eyed them for a few seconds, knowing Taichi was watching him. With a sigh, Yamato threw the crumbs into the pond.

There was a flurry of movement and loud quacks, as the ducks fought for the food.

Grinning, Taichi also tossed some of the bread into the pond, watching as the ducks chased each other. He reached into the plastic bag again and pulled out more of the crumbled, old bread.

Yamato bit his lower lip, watching Taichi continue to feed the ducks. He shifted from one foot to the other.

“What?”

Blue eyes flew to the brunet, surprised at the question.

“What ‘what?’” Yamato asked back.

Taichi shrugged a shoulder. “You look like you want to say something.” Taichi frowned lightly. “You’re worried, aren’t you?”

Yamato scuffed the ground with his toe. “You saw the documentary… We shouldn’t be doing this.”

Taichi glanced at the impatient ducks in the pond. “It was ducklings, Yama. These are fully grown ones and they shouldn’t have any developmental complications from eating bread.”

Yamato watched as a female run on top of the water to get away from another one, quacking loudly.

With a smile and shake of his head, Yamato reached into the bag Taichi was carrying and pulled out some crumbs. They didn’t have that much bread, anyway, so this amount should be fine.

Five minutes later, the pair was walking back the way they’d come. There really hadn’t been much bread at all.

The boys left the park hand-in-hand, wondering what they could amuse themselves with next.


	3. Switched partners

**TaiYama week 2018**

**Day 8:** Switched partners (and thanks to the Anon on Tumblr for the concept!)

 **Warnings:** Swearing

-o-o-o-o-o-

“Nope.” Yamato said, making a 180 and leaving the café he and Taichi had just entered.

Taichi hurried to catch up to his boyfriend, throwing curious glances over his shoulder. “You were the one who wanted to go to that particular café! What’s wrong with it?”

“My dad.” Yamato slowed his pace, looking around for another café they could pop into for a short break and a bit of something to eat.

“But I thought your dad introduced you to that place?” Taichi asked, rightly confused. “And now it’s no good _because_ your dad introduced you to it?” He shook his head. “I just don’t get you at times…”

Yamato gave Taichi an exasperated look. “No. I mean that my dad was in there. With _his_ boyfriend. So we’re not going there.”

Taichi stopped abruptly. “…I’m sorry, what?”

Yamato also stopped and turned to his boyfriend, arms crossed over his chest. “I said: dad and his boyfriend were in there, so we’re not going.” Yamato motioned for Taichi to follow as he turned and continued walking. “Come on, that place looks good.”

-o-o-o-

“No.” Yamato stopped at the entrance of a clothing store, turning about face and marching back the way he had come.

“What?” Taichi rushed after his boyfriend, looking over his shoulder and through the windows of the store. He saw nothing out of the ordinary. “Didn’t you want to go there? Was something wrong with the place?”

“My dad was in there.”

“Ah.” Taichi said, recalling their last trip to the café last week. “With his boy—hey! I forgot to ask you last time; you distracted me—”

“Say, didn’t you need new soccer stuff?” Yamato asked, pointing to a sports store on their left.

“Yes, let’s go!” Taichi rushed into the store, forgetting his earlier questions.

-o-o-o-

“Fuck me.” Yamato muttered at the entrance of the food court where he had stopped.

“Okay.” Taichi grinned.

Yamato gave him a sideways glance before turning around and starting to move out.

“So you wanna head straight to yours and get to business?” Taichi asked waggling his eyebrows.

“ _What_ business?” Asked a new voice from behind Taichi.

Gulping upon recognising the voice, Taichi turned around. “Mr. Ishida. I didn’t know you were here, too.”

“Clearly.” Hiroaki said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He turned his eyes to his son. “We’ve been thinking,” Hiroaki motioned for a brunet standing behind him. “If you two would be interested in a double date—”

“No.” Yamato said firmly.

“Well, you know, we do seem to be going to the same places for all our dates…”

“No.”

Hiroaki and Yamato stared each other down, before Hiroaki let out a sigh. “Fine, but I’ll be taking Taichi.”

“You—what?” Yamato frowned at his father, not comprehending the situation.

“I’m taking Taichi on a date. You have Akira.”

Akira grinned. “Score. I get to change to a younger one.”

Yamato shook his head smiling, whilst Hiroaki elbowed his boyfriend.

“Um,” Taichi started, completely out of the loop.

Yamato turned to his boyfriend. “You haven’t met Akira, dad’s boyfriend.” Yamato jerked his head in the elder brunet’s direction. “And this is Taichi.”

Taichi gave the other man a polite half-bow. Akira nodded in reply.

“I was actually supposed to ask you about that…” Taichi murmured to Yamato.

“You can ask me anything you want about Akira and our situation over lunch with me.”

“Yeah, about this,” Yamato butted in. “What’s up with this stupid plan?”

“It’s not stupid.” Akira said, sticking his tongue out at Yamato, who retaliated in kind.

“Well I want to get to know Taichi better, and you and Akira can also bond over lunch.” Hiroaki clarified.

“That’s stupid.” Yamato stated.

“No it’s not.” Hiroaki retaliated. Then a smirked crossed his face. “Or did you and Taichi want to skip lunch and run off home?”

Yamato’s face reddened a few shades and he shoved his hands into his pockets. “You know what, let’s just get this over and done with, since I know you won’t give up on this stupid idea.”

Hiroaki slapped a hand on Yamato’s shoulder. “That’s my boy!”

Yamato elbowed him in the ribs with a smile.

“Come on, Taichi. We get to pick first. What do you want to eat? My treat, since you’re my date.” Hiroaki grinned.

“What if we decide on the same food?” Yamato challenged, arms crossing over his chest.

“Then it’s you changed your mind about that double date.” Hiroaki winked.

Yamato let out a breath and let his arms drop to his sides. “We’ll be somewhere else.”

With affirming nods at each other (Taichi’s a bit less confident than the others’), the two pairs went their separate ways.

“Oh, and dad?” Yamato called back.

“Yeah?”

“I want Taichi back after this.”

Hiroaki smiled. “That was the deal.”

“Taichi, eat fast!” Yamato called before winking at his boyfriend and walking off with another brunet.


	4. Rejection

**TaiYama week 2018**

**Day 9:** Rejection

 **Warnings:** Swearing, drinking

-o-o-o-o-o-

The bar was filled with a dull murmur, much like it had been stuffed with cotton. It wasn’t exactly crowded—it never was—it was just full. There was no TV blaring out sports commentary and there were no speakers playing unnecessarily loud music. The bar was just filled with the low voices of people, all murmuring so that their voices blended into one monotonous sound.

“Hey there, gorgeous.”

Except that voice stood out.

The cheerful voice of a man that had taken a seat on the stool next to Yamato’s at the bar counter. Yamato didn’t spare him a glance.

“I’m new here.”

No shit.

The man propped an elbow onto the counter, resting his chin on his fist and gazing at Yamato. Yamato didn’t reciprocate the gaze.

“You got any recommendations?”

“The bar next door.”

“Ouch.” The man said with a laugh, signalling to the bartender. “JD and coke, please.”

The bartender gave Yamato a questioning look, but Yamato made a miniscule dismissing motion; he wanted to see how far this new guy was willing to go.

The man received his drink and took a swig before turning back to Yamato: “So what’s your name?”

“Fuck off.”

“Interesting choice from your parents… I’m Taichi.” A huge grin.

Yamato actually spared the man a glance at this stage. He had thick, brown hair and kind, youthful eyes. Yamato’s own eyes lingered for longer than he would have liked. He turned to face forward again, but not before catching a glimpse of a knowing smirk.

“So, Mr. Off—or can I just call you Fuck?”

Yamato lifted his drink to his lips, assuring himself that the curve his lips made was from the curve of the glass.

“You a regular here?” Taichi continued. “The bartender seems to know you, considering he looks out for you.”

Yamato’s eyes flicked to Taichi and back to the back of the bar. So Taichi had noticed the small exchange…

“You seem more than capable of taking care of yourself,” Taichi continued his solo conversation, “which means the bartender knows you. But which came first: did you start coming here and get to know him, or did you know him from before, which is why you started coming here?”

Of course, Yamato didn’t reply.

Taichi leaned back a bit on the stool he was on. “Not that it matters; I was just curious.”

A silence followed.

Yamato swirled what was left of his gin and tonic around the glass. He watched the liquid ride up the walls of the glass. Well, Taichi had been entertaining for all of two minutes. Yamato threw back the glass and swallowed the contents. He stood, nodding to the bartender.

“I don’t think you should leave just yet.” Taichi commented, still seated and staring into his own glass. “I’m not done and I don’t want to be a creep and follow you out and stalk you down the street.”

Taichi turned to grin at Yamato, who had stopped in his tracks to stare at the brunet.

“Stay?”

-o-

Taichi had been sitting at the bar for almost five hours. The bartender called out for last orders and there were a few patrons leisurely heading for new drinks. No one was that drunk—this wasn’t that kind of place.

Taichi glanced at his half-drunk Jack Daniels and coke. He hadn’t been interested in drinking since that fist glass. This second was more of a prop. He lifted the glass, inspecting the liquid. He placed it down, right next to a similar, though completely different, half-full glass of clear liquid.

The bartender glanced at the two glasses, side by side. Polar opposites, yet they shared some qualities: both were only half-drunk, both Collins glasses, the ice had long melted into both drinks, and the liquid was turning tepid, if the lack of sweating was any indication—which it was.

“They seem so different at first glance, don’t they?” Taichi mumbled to the bartender, chin on the counter, staring at the pair of glasses.

“They do.”

“But somehow two completely different things can have a lot in common.”

“They can.”

“Seems amazing how that can happen.”

“It does.”

“How they both ended up in the same situation, despite them coming from completely different places.”

“That’s true.”

A sudden weight on Taichi’s back interrupted whatever he was about to say next.

“Should I get you out of here, before you get too philosophical?” A deep voice whispered in his ear.

Taichi chuckled, nudging an elbow into the other man’s ribs. “Maybe you should.”

A pale hand reached over, grabbing the darker glass and tipping the contents into the clear one. “The drinks are ruined, let’s go.”

With the weight gone from his back, Taichi stood and stretched. He nodded a thanks at the bartender, then called after the other man:

“Wait up, Yamato!”

Yamato turned at the door with a laugh, calling out his own ‘thank you’ to his friend behind the bar counter.


End file.
